


and i hope you like me too

by starbucks22



Category: Boy Meets World, Girl Meets World
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:02:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25212109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starbucks22/pseuds/starbucks22
Summary: One day, Maya meets a little brunette named Riley Matthews, who promises to take her on a ride and show her all the good things in life- or, at least, the good things in life in her perspective at least.Maya refuses. Riley doesn’t want to let her.This is what happens when Maya loses and finally lets herself give into a little bit of hope.
Relationships: Cory Matthews & Shawn Hunter, Jack Hunter/Eric Matthews (Boy Meets World), Jonathan Turner and Maya Hart, Jonathan Turner and Topanga Matthews-Lawrence, Maya Hart & Jack Hunter, Maya Hart & Riley Matthews, Topanga Matthews-Lawrence/Cory Matthews
Kudos: 25





	and i hope you like me too

**Author's Note:**

> hello I’m sorry if this is bad this has been in my notes for weeks and I didn’t edit it

When Maya walks into the Matthews’ apartment on a normal Friday afternoon, she’s not expecting to see some random guy she’s never met before chatting up a storm with Mr. and Mrs. Matthews. They’re all acting like they’re a bunch of old friends. 

Maya has one of those too, but since she’s only known Riley for half a year, she’s not so sure that totally counts. On top of that all, she’s only seven-years-old and still not-so-confident about her constant reoccurrences in Riley, Mr. Matthews, and Mrs. Matthews lives. 

So she walks cautiously through the front door, past the open living room, and into the crowded, but comfortable, looking kitchen. “Hello?” she asks the adults.  Hello, who the heck is this and why is he here? 

Riley catches this right away. Generally, she’s a pretty unobservant six-year-old, but if there’s one thing that she knows in this life, it’s always  going to be her best friend of a whole six months. “This is my Uncle Jon,” the child explains. The man in all black waves. “I met him two years ago, when I was only four! He’s the BEST, Maya! You’re going to  love him.”

“Yeah?” asks Maya skeptically. She eyeballs Jon up and down, as if she can really rough him up with all of the fighting experience she’s picked up in her short lifetime. She surely doesn’t  appear  to love him very much, and the feeling seems to be almost mutual, though the latter is more hesitant than anything. “What’s your full name, ‘Uncle Jon?’” 

“I’m Jonathan Turner,” he replies in the same suspicious tone. He looks her up and down as well, but it comes across as more friendly than hers did. He surveys the short blonde with the bunched up fists, near permanent scowl, bright, expressive eyes, crossed arms, and decides that even though she’s tiny, she must have seen some shit- either that, or she just dislikes him specifically. He isn’t so sure that last part is true, though. “I’m Cory and Topanga’s friend. I used to teach them when the three of them were all younger. We all lost touch for a while after my motorcycle accident, but we reconnected a couple years ago.”

“So, you’re not Riley’s real uncle, is what you’re saying.” She nods, as if she’s just solved a particularly complicated mystery. That smug ‘I knew it’ expression doesn’t last long, though- it fades almost immediately after she adopts it. “Wait. The  three  of them? There’s only two of them, excluding you. Who would the last one be? Why are you skirting around this? Did he do something bad? Is he locked up?” She manages to unclench one of her fists for just long enough to reach out toward the kitchen table and grab a banana.

The girl’s just came here straight from her apartment, after all. Her and her mom don’t exactly have the most nutritious foods in the world, and it’s not even that Maya’s craving health nut food, but she knows that if she doesn’t eat some now, Mrs. Matthews is just going to force her into it later. 

She’s been hanging around for six months 

now. She knows the drill. This newcomer- in her eyes, at least- most certainly does  not. 

She’s not expecting him to actually answer her question with honesty, but that’s what he does, albeit his confusion. “The third one, as you put it, is Shawn Hunter. He grew up with those two knuckleheads, and I’ve known the three of them since they were all around thirteen-years-old.”

“You’ve known Mr. Matthews for that long?” the ever skeptical little girl rolled her eyes. 

“You don’t need to be so formal with me. You can call me by my name, you know,” Cory “call me by name” Matthews sighs. “Also, Jon, don’t sugarcoat it.” He leaned toward the girls, whispering dramatically. “He and Shawn lived together for a whole year.”

Finally, Maya looks a bit interested. It’s blink-and-you-miss-it, but it’s better than the angry face she’s been making. “So, clearly he’s not here. So did he abandon you, or what?”

Jonathan blinks.  Well that sure came out of left field.  “No, he didn’t abandon anybody. He’s been traveling for work last I checked.”

“Is that fancy adult talk for ‘abandoned?’ You know, if he’s even a real person?”

“ If?  Trust me kid, he’s as real as you and I are.”

“Then how come I’ve never seen him? Is he like a ghost?”

“Because I love him, but he’s an idiot who barely even phone calls Cory and Topanga, let alone actually comes back to New York more than once a year.”

In the background, Riley gasps. “That’s a bad language word!”

“No, it’s not.” Maya shakes her head exasperatedly in the way that only a little kid can manage. “Trust me, I’ve heard some. Fu-“

“ NO!” 

All at once, Cory, Topanga, Riley, and Jonathan jump into action to prevent Riley’s best friend from actually saying a curse word. 

“Where did you learn that?!” Jonathan can’t help but worryingly ask. He turns around to face his former students without stopping to wait for an answer. “What the heck kind of place does she live in that people don’t bother to censor themselves around little kids?”

“I’m not little.” Maya, who is currently the shortest person in the room, pouts. All it does it make her look even  less  intimidating than before, which is not a feat easily accomplished. “You don’t get to call me that.”

“What? It’s the truth. Do you want me to lie to you?” 

“Why are you even talking to me?” grumpily replies Maya. Nobody intervenes, though: they all figure that, hey, at least she’s not threatening to start using curse words strong enough to make a sailor cry. Or, well,  anymore.  “And when are you leaving?”

“Maya!” Riley chastises, with one hand draped over her forehead and the other grasping at her heart with all the dramatics of an ancient Victorian lady. “Don’t be so  rude.  Have I not influenced you at all?”

Maya pulls her friend’s hand down, the one that was previously flopped across Riley’s forehead. “Okay, so, for one,  obviously, Riley,  and for two- I’m not rude, I’m honest.”

“Well be less honest!” 

Maya grins, slow and sure.  Gotcha.  “Are you telling me to lie?”

“ No!”  Riley splutters. She yanks her hand away from the blonde so she can be dramatic much more effectively. “No that’s not what I meant-“

“To answer your question,” Jonathan cuts in before an argument can get started between the two girls, “I’m leaving in around two hours. I have a flight I need to leave for soon.”

“What flight?” asks Maya, who is somehow not done with her mini interrogation. “Where are you going?”

Instead of being as intimidating as she intends, Jonathan simply looks amused. 

“Back to Philadelphia. I have some friends there I need to go back and visit.”

“I’ve never been there,” she admits. “I think the Matthews are planning on taking me there sometime this year.”

“During the holidays, I’m going to assume?”

“Well, yeah. Mr. Matthews is a teacher so there’s  no  way he’d take us during the school year.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Because you’re friends with him?”

“That, too,” he says. “Also, I’ve been teaching for over ten years, so.”

“Is it the worst?” she asks, putting on her ‘I’m so sweet and innocent look at me’ voice. 

“No,” he laughs. “Why would I teach if I hated teaching?”

“I don’t know, I just figured that’s what adults do. That’s what my mom’s doing- well, probably. I haven’t been home in two days.”

Jonathan pauses; blinks once, twice, then a third time. “I’m sorry, what? Why not?”

“None of your business-“

“She’s at work, right?” Riley wonders innocently.

Maya shrugs. “Maybe. Not like the money will last long anyway.”

“So you haven’t been at home... why?” Jonathan asks, trying his best to tread carefully but not entirely sure how to. This could be a sensitive topic, for all he knows, and he doesn’t want to mess it up. Despite the fact that he’s a teacher, he knows next to nothing about really young kids, especially not ones around Maya’s age. 

“I just  told  you why,” she says, despite the fact that no, she kind of really didn’t. “My mom says she has work. There’s not much at home right now.”

“Do you live near here?” he asks. He figures the question isn’t too personal.

Turns out he’s right, because she actually answers it. “Well, kind of. I usually have to take a bus because it’s too far to walk, but not so far that I’d have to get someone to drive me. I live here in town, though. In an apartment like these guys, except mine isn’t nearly as nice. Usually I switch back and forth in between being at home and here at the Matthews’ house, and when I’m here really early in the mornings- or if I had a sleepover the night before- then I’ll just head off to school with Riley.”

“My dad likes to drive us,” Riley comments absentmindedly, then goes back to coloring in the cutesy little princess themed coloring book that her mom bought her last week. “So usually we just do that. He drops us off early, then he heads off to work. The school he teaches at is really close to Maya’s and I’s, so it works out pretty well!” She smiles. “Quick and easy, except when Maya actually has to be at her house.”

“She’s with us at least ninety percent of the time,” Mr. Matthews- Cory, as he keeps saying Maya can call him- replies. When the little blonde shoots him a near ineffable look, (unless you know what you’re looking for like Cory does,) he backpedals. “You know you’re always welcome here, don’t give me that look.”

Maya shoots straight out of her chair and bends down low to sit beside Riley, who passes her a juice box without question. She glares halfheartedly at the adults above, but it, once again, does not have the intended effect. “I don’t need you! I don’t need anybody.” She shoots right back up again, reaching around the group for what looks to be a leather jacket. She throws it on, sighs, begins to speak-

And realizes that all the adults in the room,  especially  the newcomer, are all staring at her.

“What?” comes the defensive response. She quickly rummages around in one of the tiny pockets, eventually pulling out a tube full of cherry flavored chapstick. “I was looking for this. It’s no big deal.” She shrugs, smears it on, and flops herself back down beside Riley.

“Oh.” Jonathan says as he watches the younger of the two grin and ramble something out that could be about anything from thunderstorms to homework to the latest new rated G movie that’s out. Maya proceeds to do the same, rolling her eyes and kicking back her feet, very much the pinnacle of cool. She talks about anything in between lighting to  not  doing her homework to the latest rated PG movie that’s recently released. “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.”

Cory grins large and wide, like he can tell exactly what realizations are running through Jonathan’s face just by the older man’s facial expressions alone. 

Maya, once again noticing the attention on her, cracks some stupid joke with a playful grin on her face. Riley watches in silence for a second or two before throwing her support behind her best friend full force, just ultimately accepting that no matter how stupid it is, she’s going to end up right by her best friend’s side anyway.

“Well,” Jonathan says. “This is familiar.”

*

“She is literally you. She’s like your twin, Matthews! A little female version of you. She’s the second most familiar kid I’ve ever met in my entire life. Talk about déjà vu!”

Jonathan is sitting beside Topanga on the living couch three months later. Both of them are laughing at some new cute, goofy thing that Riley’s doing, but he’s the only one commenting on it.

“The only difference is that she’s younger than you were when I first met you.”

“Oh shut up,” Cory scowls. “Wait. Second most familiar? Who’s the first?”

Maya leans over the very pregnant Topanga, smirking. “Hi it’s me, I bomb mailboxes for no particular reason, and I get away with little to no consequences!” She pauses. “Well, if I even  exist.  Guess who!”

“Does she actually bomb mailboxes?” asks Jonathan, not understanding the imitation at all. 

“No, she does not.” Cory sighs. “Really, Maya?”

“I bet I’m more familiar to you guys than I  ever  was before, now, aren’t I?” 

“I regret telling you anything ever.”

Maya grins. “And I’m still convinced that you haven’t even told me the good stuff. I bet Mr. Turner over there has something to share too!”

“What?” Jonathan frowns, confused. “What am I supposed to say here?”

“You’re the English teacher and you don’t have the words to say?”

“I don’t even know what you’re talking about in the first place,” he admits. “Also, yeah. I know. Irony.”

“FOR CLARIFICATION’S SAKE,” Topanga butts in loudly, placing a hand on Maya’s shoulder. “This child has  not  blown up a mailbox, or  anything at all,  for that matter.” She pauses. “Right?”

“Why would-“

“Right.” Maya nods. She beams angelically, but nobody is fooled. “I’m innocent.”

The adults pause...

And all break out into laughter.

“ What?  What is so funny?”

“Maya, sweetie,” even  Riley  says, with a fond smile and a little shake of her head. Despite the fact that both of these children are only seven-years-old, and indeed should be innocent, Riley says, “You never have been.”

The adults laugh some more.

After a solid minute, Topanga is the first one to stop- and it isn’t entirely by her choice. She shoots straight up out of her past casual position, one hand in the air and one clutching onto her stomach. “Oh sh- uh... stuffed mushrooms!”

“Just say shit!” yells out Maya. 

“You  don’t  get to say shit,” Topanga rebukes, shaking her head. “Somebody needs to go and get me my hospital bag.”

“Is it time?” Cory asks anxiously in the background. He rises to his feet, presumably to go do what his wife is instructing. Without waiting for an answer, he races out of the room, rambling on. “We’re going to the hospital, right? Are we taking an ambulance? Would it be easier to take a cab? We are  not  going on the subway, especially not with two kids and one on the way.”

“Forget all that, Cory. Jonathan! Did you take the subway, or did you get here by car?”

“Neither.” Jonathan, looking a little frazzled, replies. He passes the phone he was holding up to his ear off to Riley. “I took my bike.”

Riley stares at the phone for a few seconds, but ultimately gets it. “Who am I calling?”

“Uhhhh. Matthews?”

“Which one of them?” asks Maya. She stands up, throws on her jacket, and snatches the phone from Riley. She’s already dialing before she receives an answer. “There’s a whole clan!”

“Call my grandparents,” Riley, wide eyed, thankfully butts in, carefully leaning over her best friend’s shoulder. She then points at the contacts button on Cory’s phone. The other little girl catches on right away, and begins to scroll through it. “I’m so glad that we’ve been learning to read.” 

“I guess it can come in handy then, huh. Their names are Amy and Alan, right?”

“Yes!” a chorus of voices agree. Someone in the background announces that they’re calling Mr. Feeny. (Seeing as Jonathan is the one that leaves the room and heads off to another area of the apartment, it’s probably him.)

“Let’s hope they pick up.” Maya presses on Amy’s name, and the phone rings. 

“Wait. Are Maya and I coming along with you guys to the hospital?” Riley asks while they wait, which is honestly a fair question. 

“You’re going to have to!” Cory frantically cuts in and out of the living room and the bedroom. Once he does this about three or four times, he finally comes out with the aforementioned bag. Tossing it off to his empty handed daughter, he finally gets to stop moving for a second. “Unless we can a: call a babysitter for you two right this second, or b: Maya’s mom is free enough that we can drop both of you off at the diner for a few hours.”

“My mom’s too swamped today, right now is rush hour,” Maya halfheartedly protests. She’s too distracted by the buzzing at her ear to do much else. “You can drop me off if you want, but you’ll have to take Riley with you.”

“But what about you?”

“I can take care of myself.”

“Bullshit,” Topanga calls out, who has apparently decided that she’s in enough pain that sugarcoating her language just isn’t a priority anymore. Thankfully, nobody stops to care. “You’re seven-years-old, I’m not leaving you by yourself. We’ve talked about this.” 

“You shouldn’t have to care!”

“Well, I do!”

The blonde scoffs. She wants to cross her arms but she can’t- the phone is still ringing. 

“Did you get a hold of Feeny?” Cory wonders as Jonathan reappears, but the latter of the two doesn’t get the chance to answer as Maya (mostly accidentally) talks over them. She’s busy facing off with Topanga. 

“You’re not my mom!”

“I’m not trying to be!” she says, but they all know that it’s a lie. 

“Okay!” Cory steps forward, clapping his hands together. “My very pregnant wife’s water just broke, we have two little kids that we’ll be dragging along with us, one kid is on the way, which means we’ll be forced to go to the hospital, and lemme tell you,  this family doesn’t have a good track record with hospitals. I mean, just think about it! I can count at least four times when someone ended up in the hospital because they needed stitches,  then you,”  he points over at Jonathan, who’s talking to someone else and is therefore not paying much attention, “Got in that motorcycle accident, then there was all of the many births such as Morgan, Riley, Maya-“

Maya’s call of, “You do know I’m not actually your kid, right?” is promptly ignored.

“-There was the whole fiasco with Josh, and now look at us! More  hospitals!  And we don’t even have a ride, because I sure as shit do not want to haul all of us onto the subway during rush hour, on a weekend, when time is really of the essence here!”

“I found you all a ride!” Jonathan announces not a moment too soon. “Well. Somewhat? It’s better than nothing.”

The group nervously eyeballs one another.

“Who did you get a hold of?” Cory wearily asks.

“Well...”

*

“You are not allowed to get us a ride ever again.”

“I really feel the love, baby bro!” Eric Matthews calls out from the passengers seat of his- and his boyfriend’s- car. He tilts his head backwards so he can see the vehicle’s other occupants better. For a brief moment, the passengers panic- until they realize that, hey, wait a minute, Eric isn’t even the one driving. 

So who is?

“Wait a minute. If  you’re  not driving, but Mr. Matthews, Mrs. Matthews, and Mr. Turner aren’t driving, then who  is?”  Maya takes her time in asking. 

“You didn’t think of that before getting in the car?” Riley quietly mumbles beside her, clutching her little stuffed bear like a lifeline. She’s been rather quiet the whole car ride, actually- something Maya is rather keen on rectifying, just later on, when she isn’t smooshed into a car with six other people, two of which she doesn’t even  know.

“I didn’t even think about it. I figured since Mr. Matthews seemed to OK it, then everything would be fine.”

“Everything is fine, girls,” Cory confirms surely enough, despite his earlier statement. “I mean, Jonathan probably shouldn’t have called someone who was clearly in the middle of something, but that couldn’t have been helped.”

“Who did you expect me to call? We don’t really know anyone else in this town yet, do we?” He asks, which is a good question. 

“To answer the little pipsqueak back there,” Eric begins, much to Maya’s exasperation. “The guy in the driver’s seat is my good ol’ buddy Jack.”

“Who was in the middle of a business deal, thank you very much,” grumps the man. Eric hasn’t given much of a description to go off of, but almost nobody questions it, so Maya figures that either a: they’re too tired to care, b: they already know whoever this mysterious ‘Jack’ is, or the very viable option c: it’s both of the above. 

“He’s my Uncle Jack,” Riley puts in her two cents before going back to cuddling her bear and ignoring everybody that’s not Maya. “You just haven’t met him yet.”

“Is he Mr. Matthews’ brother?”

Riley pauses, thinking about how best to answer that. “Uh, no, not really. But in a certain way of thinking... maybe?”

“What-“

“I’m not  his  brother,” Jack clarifies, finally communicating with someone who isn’t Eric. “But that’s not important.”

“It’s kind of important!”

“Who even are you, kid?”

“Name’s Maya Hart. What’s yours?”

“I already told you,” Jack replies. “I’m Jack.”

“Yeah. Need a bit more to go off of. What’s your story, Mr. Businessman?”

“Why do you-“

“-Care?” the blonde finishes effortlessly. “I wanna know what I’m getting myself into.”

“We’re all going to the hospital so Topanga can give birth.  That’s  what you’re getting yourself into.”

She huffs. “That’s not what I meant. How do I know I can trust you?”

“Cory and Topanga trust me fine enough, so why can’t that just be enough? It was fine for you just five minutes ago!”

“Yeah, and now I’m using my head, so now I’m all suspicious. So cough it up! Give me more information!”

Jack sighs and stares at the other adults through the rear view mirror. He manages to keep at least one of his eyes on the road, though. “Is she always like this?”

“Yes,” replies one. 

“Shut up,” says the other.

“I don’t know, I’ve only known her for a few months,” the last one shrugs. “And I’m on her side for this one.”

“You’re the one that called Eric!” Cory laughs, still full of that sort of frantic, nervous energy that he just can’t seem to shake yet. “And you didn’t even bother to check who would be driving us?”

“I-“

“We’re almost here!” Jack loudly interrupts just before a fight can break out. “Also, wait.” He pauses, just now registering something Riley had said a few minutes ago when three different people were talking at once, when he had been too preoccupied to comment on it. “ Uncle  Jack?”

“Yeah,” Riley replies. “I mean, think about it. Uncle Shawn is like a brother to Daddy, and you  are  Shawn’s brother, and if he is my uncle, then wouldn’t you be one too?”

“I still don’t believe that the guy exists,” a pouting Maya speaks up. She’s ignored. 

The rest of the car’s occupants chatter on and off, but Jack is silent once more until he parks the car nearby the hospital’s entrance. Cory exits first, followed by Topanga, then followed by Jonathan. Maya, Eric, Riley, and Jack are the only ones still remaining as the rest of their group heads their way inside slowly. 

“You really think of me like an uncle?”

“Of course I do.” Riley says this so self assuredly, as if there isn’t any doubt in the world.

“Huh.” Jack pauses. “Well, I guess that makes you my niece then. I’ve never had a niece before.”

“You do now.” Riley exits the car, walks around it, and makes her way toward the driver’s door. With absolutely no warning at all, she whips it open and encases the man in a big, warm hug. “You’re family, duh!”

(Unbeknownst to any of them, that simple reassurance is enough to keep Jack going down the straight and narrow road- he does not sell his soul to an evil company, he does not remain constantly separated from the people he loves, and he  does  end up having a better quality of life, all because one little girl made a split second decision and decided that- despite the fact that she hardly even knows him- he’s stuck with her now.)

“You ready to go? I’m about to have a little sibling!”

“My bet is still on it being a brother,” Maya remarks, smiling. “If I’m right, someone here owes me an ice cream cone.”

“I think  she  will be a girl,” the tiny brunette replies. “ She  will be beautiful.”

“So, we got a bet? An ice cream cone says you’re wrong.” She holds her hand out for the younger girl to shake.” “Deal?”

“Deal.”

They shake on it.

*

(Maya is right. She’s beyond overjoyed.

Riley is only grumpy about being wrong for as long as it takes her to lock eyes on her new baby brother. That’s all it takes for all of her, however brief, negative emotions to fade away entirely.)

“Hi there, baby boy,” she whispers. “Do you see this? Almost everyone is here, just to see you!”

It’s true. In the few hours between the group arriving at the hospital and Topanga giving birth once again, the waiting room has been chalk full of excited, adorning relatives. All but one person was there, eager and awaiting news concerning the new member of the Matthews-Lawrence family.

“We all love you already. It’s so good to finally meet you. You aren’t going to remember this, and you won’t know who I am for a while, but I’m just going to introduce myself anyway. Hi! I’m your big sister, Riley. I’m a whole seven-years-old. We’re going to get to grow up together. Isn’t that cool?” 

Understandably, the newborn does not reply.

“And this is your other big sister, Maya.” She motions beside her, toward the blonde. 

Maya steps a bit closer and peers down at the aforementioned newborn. “Yeah. I think you and I will get along just fine, kid.”

*

“Are you EXCITED?” Riley bounces across the hallway and over to the bolted up front door. She unlatched and unlocks it at practically the speed of light- or, you know, the speed of an eight-year-old girl. “Because I AM.”

“You always are.” Maya smiles fondly as she walks into the Matthews’ apartment. “But this time I assume that you’re referring to Farkle’s party.”

“And  I’m  excited to see Farkle’s dad!” Cory cheerfully calls out, effectively matching his daughter’s energy. “I haven’t seen him in years.”

“I wish I could go with you guys,” a voice calls out. Topanga stands in the doorway of hers and Cory’s bedroom. “But unfortunately, I have work to do.” She shakes the briefcase that she’s holding loosely in one hand. The baby that she’s encasing in her other hand bounces with the motion, giggling. “I’m kind of glad that Jonathan offered to watch Auggie, though. Obviously, he’s always been good with kids... though Auggie might be a bit younger than his general audience. I hope this won’t be too hard on either of them.”

“Hey, as long as Eric isn’t babysitting alone

again, we should be all good. I gotta admit that he really isn’t that bad at it, but the  last  thing I want him to do is give our children sugar and caffeine, just to give them back to us while they’re all hyped up.”

“Was this the weekend that Uncle Jack was away on business?” Riley inquires innocently. She then bops the drapes with her little fairy wand. There’s no real rhyme or reason for her to have a plastic fairy wand- It isn’t even Halloween, and she isn’t going to a costume party. She’s going to a non-costumed birthday party, but she’s all dressed up just the same.

Nobody attempts to talk her out of it either. “I feel like it was. No offense to him- I would never try to offend him- but he just isn’t as fun as Uncle Eric is.”

Cory nods, expecting to hear something like that out of his daughter. Or, you know, almost any kid at all. What child wouldn’t want someone to make things exciting for them, even if just for a few nights?

“Yeah, that doesn’t surprise me. Anyway!” He claps his hands together, smiling. “I think it’s about time to head out, now, don’t you think?”

Maya and Riley grab each other’s hands and grin.

*

“HOW DID THIS GO SO WRONG?”

“You’re okay you’re okay you’re okay you’re OKAY, MAYA-“

“Will you stop babying me?” Maya pushes away from the panicked Matthews, trying her best to ignore the tears that keep prickling at the corners of her eyes. “I’m fine.”

“You need stitches,” Cory replies in a almost annoyed tone of voice. He is so sick of always loving the kids that end up getting themselves hurt. it’s constantly stressful. (Despite that, he doesn’t regret it for even a second. He’d do it again- actually, looking back on it, him being an overprotective worrywart over Maya  is  him doing it again.) “This,” he motions wildly, hands flailing every which way, “ This  is not the definition of fine! This isn’t even in the same realm of possibility of being fine! Why are you like this? Why do you do this? Why is it always you that ends up hurt?”

Maya pushes herself forward just enough that she can tap Cory’s shoulder. When he turns to look at her, eyes brimming with worry, she can’t resist the urge to ask: 

“Are you going to keep freaking out over me, or can we actually get into the car that’s been parked here for the last few minutes? I assume that one of Riley’s uncles are here to take me back to my apartment?”

“No! Nobody called them.”

“Mom probably did, but we don’t even know if that car over there belongs to any of them. Remember, there’s a lot of other guests here-you know, most of which actually got to go inside the house, unlike all of us. Shouldn’t we just do the smart thing and call an ambulance?” Riley replies in a tone that’s about seventeen times quieter than she usually uses. A vast majority of the time, the child has absolutely no concept of an indoors voice, and today was supposed to be no different- but Maya got hurt while on her skateboard during Farkle’s birthday party, so she was quickly escorted away from the backyard and rushed over to Cory. Much to her chagrin, Cory- along with Riley and the birthday boy himself- refuse to leave her alone. So there they are, sitting on the curb outside of Stuart Minkus’ house, debating on whether or not they should call an ambulance for the bleeding little girl who only wanted to have fun with her best friends for a few measly hours. 

“You’re right,” Cory says.  Why didn’t I think of that?  he wonders to himself.  Really, I’m the adult here. I shouldn’t be outsmarted by my eight-year-old.  He grips around inside his coat pocket in search for his cell phone, but before he can pull his own out, someone is tossing him theirs.

“Uh, thanks.” He makes quick work of dialing.

“Who are you?” Riley looks up at the new arrival. She not-so-subtly scoots closer to her teary eyed friend at the sight.

“Riley, it’s okay.” Farkle tries his best to sooth her, though she’s not quite the one that needs it. It’s the first thing he’s said since Maya fell off of her skateboard, and it’s the first thing he’s said to Riley since she’s arrived. He meant to talk to go play with her earlier, but one of the party guests had demanded pictures for some bizarre reason, so they had been interrupted. It probably won’t be long until they’re stopped now, too. 

“Is he a friend of yours?”

“No- well, yes. But also no.”

Two blank faces grace his presence.

“That’s my dad,” he elaborates.

“Ohhh.”

“Why is a little girl bleeding on my doorstep?” Stuart Minkus pushes past his son, his ex classmate, and his son’s brunette best friend, all to get to Maya. “Are you alright? Do you need to see a doctor?”

‘Ambulance,’  Cory mouths, motioning over at the expensive cell phone he’s cradling in his hand. 

Maya picks up on the non spoken word straight away.  “What?”  she questions, shooting straight to her feet. “No! That’s going to cost way too much money, there’s no way I can afford it. You can’t make me go!”

“Yes, they can. You need stitches. You don’t know how to do them yourself, and if we just leave you by yourself right now, you’re going to get hurt even worse,” Riley chastises worriedly. She reaches out to grab her best friend’s shoulder, half in hopes that it’ll calm the older girl down, and half in hopes that she’ll just listen to her. “You can’t do everything by yourself, Maya.”

The blonde juts her chin out, tutting self assuredly. “Yes I can,” she says certainly. “I’ve done it before and I’ll do it again. I appreciate the concern, really I do, but can it. I can take care of myself.”

Cory, who’s been frowning and quiet throughout this entire conversation, is fed up. “Take it,” he says without preamble. He tosses Stuart’s phone back to him. The other man quickly takes the hint and presses it up to his ear. “I haven’t given them the address yet,” he clarifies a little. With that taken care of, he’s free to focus all of his attention on Maya.

“You can’t take care of yourself.”

“Yes-“

“-And even if you could, you’re only eight-years-old. You’re not legally allowed to be without some form of parental supervision.”

“With all due respect, the law doesn’t matter all that much to me, Mr. Matthews.”

“I noticed,” Cory replies drily. “Even if the law would let you,  I wouldn’t.”

“Why won’t you just leave me alone already? Why won’t you just listen to me? I’ve been telling you the same exact thing for two years, and you just don’t listen!”

“And I’m not gonna,” he says as if this isn’t already blatantly obvious. “No matter what, no matter how many times you tell me that you can handle yourself, I’m not going to get let you. You need somebody to care about you, and if I’m the only adult that’s going to stay around and do it, then so be it. You’re stuck with me, Maya.”

Maya frowns. She’s at a loss for words. Eventually, all that comes out is a very weak sounding protest. “You’re not my dad.”

Riley, in the background, facepalms and shares an exasperated look with Farkle.  Can you believe this girl?  her face seems to say.  When is she going to get it through her head? 

Cory opens his mouth to retort, or maybe even agree, but he never gets the chance. The two Minkus’ are explaining something to the other three, and the ambulance arrives.

They do eventually continue their conversation, but it takes a long while, and it takes an even longer while before Maya slowly, but surely, starts to believe him.

*

“I could have swore that you said this was going to be fun.”

“It will be!” Riley replies energetically, but Maya is both not convinced and much too tired to care.

“Isn’t Philadelphia only a few hours from New York?” 

Riley nods and takes a sip of the sugary drink that she’s managed to buy from the cheap little gas station that Maya, Cory, Topanga, Auggie, and herself are currently parked at. Officially, the reason for their sudden stop is because they need to get gas, which they most certainly don’t. They left New York with a full tank at eight o’clock in the morning, bright and early. That was only a half hour ago.

“Actually, never mind. Better question. Why are we here in the first place, exactly?”

Which brings the duo to their theory on the unofficial reason that they are no longer on a smooth car ride to snowy Philly- Riley’s parents are here to meet with someone, presumably one of their old friends. The only problem with that is that they have so many old friends that it would take a while to figure out which one might be coming with- that is, if the girls are even right in the first place. They, of course, assume they are.

“I think we’re meeting up with someone, but I have no idea who.”

“Well, let’s think about it for a second.” Maya snatches Riley’s cup, takes a long swig out of it, and passes it right back. Riley then proceeds to the same thing to Maya’s drink, only to discover that it’s a brand of coffee she doesn’t like. 

Well, to be fair, Riley doesn’t like much coffee. A lot of ten-year-old’s usually don’t anyway, so this isn’t exactly out of the ordinary.

“Alright. Well, it’s probably not going to be one of my relatives, right? Christmas is just around the corner, and that’s literally the only point of this trip. We’ll probably just see everybody there tonight.”

Maya nods approvingly. “Good point. That does limit down our list of usual suspects. What about your dad’s imaginary friend?”

“My dad doesn’t have a-“ Riley blinks. Sighs. “ Maya,  we’ve all been telling you for the last  four years.  Uncle Shawn does exist.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“And to answer your question, no. I don’t even know if he’s coming to Christmas this year, but I bet Dad wishes he will. It’s really hard to tell, really.”

“How so?”

“Well, Uncle Shawn does this thing where he’ll show up at random times throughout the year- excluding holidays, I mean- and he’ll visit for anywhere in between a few hours to a few days. After that, I won’t see him for months. I’m told it’s all because of his job, but I kind of doubt it.”

Maya scowls, as if her best friend’s innocent observations are something that personally offends her. “Well, it better be because of his job, or I’m going to have to have some words with Mr...” 

“Hunter,” Riley prompts. 

“Hunter,” Maya nods. “Why does that sound so familiar?”

“Because my parents and Uncle Jon have been talking about him for the last week and a half.”

“Hey, there’s an idea! Could Mr. Turner be the one coming with us?”

Riley pauses, having not thought of that. “Y’know, it’s possible... but I kind of doubt it. Christmas is going to be a huge deal this year-“

“Riles, it always is with you. You are literally Christmas. Christmas is you.”

“-And I’m pretty sure Uncle Jon wants to bring his girlfriend over for dinner tonight. It would be kind of hard to cram both him, her, and their luggage into the one remaining seat of my parents’ tired old Sedan.”

“Another good point. You’re just chalk full of them today. Hmm... well, it’s not going to be Eric, but what about his friend?”

“Uncle Eric has a lot of friends. He always has.”

“No, I mean, the one that drove us all to the hospital when Mrs. Matthews was in labor with Auggie,” the blonde elaborates around a mouthful of crumb cake. “The one that had the car. Brown hair like yours, seemed familiar with Mr. and Mrs. Matthews but not Mr. Turner, didn’t want to talk to us?”

“You know, you could have just stopped after mentioning the hospital and I would have understood you,” Riley tells Maya. “But yeah, I know who you’re talking about. Uncle Jack.”

“Yeah! Sure, that guy. Like I said, Eric’s friend. Maybe he’s coming?”

Riley’s laidback expression faded away into one born of confusion. She looks bewildered, her face scrunched up tight. “Wait, you think they’re friends?”

“Clearly! Just look at them. They act like they don’t, but it’s obvious to see that they love each other.”

“Yeah, they do, but-“

“Hello,” an unfamiliar, accented voice interrupts their debate. The girls look away from one another to see the there’s a short, smiling old man standing in front of them. One of the girls momentarily tenses up at the sudden interruption; the other simply studies him. 

“Are you here to ask us for directions?” Riley asks politely, as if anyone in their right minds would ask her for directions. She’s just as bad as getting where she needs to go as she is with not falling on her face every other step she takes. Then again, she’s only eight. Maybe she’ll improve with age.

“No,” the man replies. His smile seems to grow larger just by looking at her.

It’s then that the friends realize Cory and Topanga are standing beside the guy, chatting about any little thing they could possibly think of. Pretty reminiscent to how Maya met Jonathan Turner, actually, and that had yet to blow up in anybody’s faces. So, for the Matthews, she tries her best to be the sweet, polite little girl that everyone seems to believe she can be. “Hi. You look familiar...” before she can ask his name, Riley is butting in.

Quite loudly, in fact.

“HI! You’re Mr. Feeny, aren’t you?”

“Ahhh,” Maya drawls, despite the fact that they haven’t gotten the man to confirm or deny. Slowly, she looks him up and down. He effortlessly matches her gaze. “You  are  the famous Mr. Feeny, now aren’t you? Got any life lessons for us?”

“I just met you,” Mr. Feeny replies amusedly, which is again not a yes or a no.

“You must be why we’re here to meet,” Riley realizes with a start. “That makes so much more sense.”

“Yeah, for a second there we thought you must be Mr. Turner or even Riles’ Uncle Jack,” Maya agrees, visibly returning to her relaxed state. 

“I did not actually  intend  to bump into these two,” he motions behind him at the practically buzzing Matthews family members, “But we’re going to the same place anyway, so it isn’t like anyone is going out of their way,” Mr. Feeny explains. He looks back at Riley and Maya. “I assume you two are with them?”

They nod.

“You poor, poor little girls.”

Cory squawks in indignation. He’s ignored.

“I guess introductions are in order,” Topanga says. “There doesn’t seem to be a better time for it. You girls can pick which one of you goes first.”

With only a brief look in between the two girls exchanged, Maya puts down her coffee cup and leaps back up to her feet. As she does so, she leans backwards on one of her heels and props the other one up onto the seat she has just abandoned.

“Oh, so I guess she’s going for  dramatic  today.”

Maya silently confirms this as she leans around Riley, rifles through the brunette’s bright pink duffel bag, and pulls out the old leather jacket she had stuffed in there earlier this morning. She pops it on, sticks her hand out for the new (well, to her, anyway,) addition, and nods once, satisfied. “The name’s Maya Hart. Nice to meet ya!”

Mr. Feeny shakes her hand without hesitation. “It’s nice to meet you, Miss Hart.”

The little girl instantly deflates. “I just got all up in your face and you don’t even care?  Really?”

“Oh please, I’ve dealt with much worse than you.”

“Speaking of,” Cory pipes up, now chewing on a bagel, “Anyone heard from-“

“Mr. Turner is coming by Grandma and Grandpa’s later today with his girlfriend,” Riley interrupts, looking down at her father’s phone. When or if she managed to swipe it from him, they all have no idea. 

“How did you get that?” he asks, more amused than anything. 

“He probably would have just handed it to you if you asked-“ Topanga begins chastising her ten-year-old, but quickly realizes her mistake. “-It was Maya, wasn’t it?”

“When is it not?” both Maya and Riley answer. The two adults simply shrug. 

“I think Uncle Jack and Uncle Eric might actually beat us to Grandma and Grandpa’s house by the rate we’re going,” Riley continues. 

Maya nods and finishes the sentence off. “And obviously Mr. Feeny is coming too.”

Cory stares. “When someone says ‘oh yeah, I’ve dealt with worse than you’ the first assumption anyone has is a group of people that Mr. Feeny here hasn’t dealt with in years?”

“I’m going to assume you weren’t referring to them, then?”

“No.” Mr. Feeny, Cory, and Topanga chorus, all shaking their heads. When Cory’s phone rings and Riley hands it back over, the trio take one look at the screen before shaking their heads some more.

“Talk about coincidence,” Topanga says. 

“Talk about good timing,” Cory agrees. He goes to answer the phone. “Hey! Where the heck are you?” A pause. “IF YOU SAY THAT YOU’RE IN EUROPE OR SOMEWHERE EQUALLY FAR AWAY, THEN I’LL THROW YOU INTO TOMORROW BECAUSE IT’S ALMOST CHRISTMAS AND- yeah, yeah I know I saw you a few weeks ago, BUT THAT DOESN’T MEAN YOU CAN JUST GO AROUND SKIPPING THE HOLIDAYS, PALLY-“

The group doesn’t end up hearing the rest of his words, because he takes off and heads back to the car. 

Maya blinks. She breaks the silence first. “Um, what. Who was he talking to?”

“Shawn,” Topanga answers, not sounding surprised in the slightest.  This is normal,  her face seems to say.

“I don’t believe you,” Maya stubbornly replies. 

Riley groans. “Will you  please  give that up already? It’s been years!”

“And I’ve never met him. Why should I believe would I don’t see?”

“It’s called faith, Maya. If you don’t believe him, you can believe me- and I saw him just a few weeks ago! Wait.”

“Maya,” Topanga speaks up again, picking up on her daughter’s thought process. “Weren’t you there?”

“Riley’s my best friend, of course I was there,” the younger blonde replies affirmably. 

“Then how did you  not  see him?”

“To be fair, he wasn’t exactly there for very long,” Cory chimes back in, momentarily done screaming at his best friend. “But that’s besides the point. We should probably get going.”

Topanga nods. 

“Let’s get a move on!”

*

“Okay, just so you know, my grandparents really aren’t that intimidating.”

Maya huffs. As they arrive at their destination, she does not get out of the car. “Of course they aren’t to you, you  know  them. I don’t.”

“BUT they already know all about you!”

Maya raises an eyebrow at her friend. “ All  about me?”

Riley pauses. “Well, no, I didn’t go around telling them your whole life history or anything, if that’s what you’re asking. But they’re really excited to meet you!”

She makes a face in response. Riley exits the car. 

“Come on, Maya! Everyone’s going to be waiting on us. You don’t want to make them wait, do you?”

“Well-“

“Nope! Besides,” her smile turns into a more mischievous, planning grin that’s usually associated with schemes, or harebrained matchmaking ideas, or both. “We might get to meet Angela today!”

“That’s great!” Maya grins. “...Who’s Angela?”

“She’s-“

“-My best friend from college. I haven’t seen in her in a while,” Topanga completes her daughter’s sentence. “Aren’t you girls coming?” The blonde is standing halfway in between the house and the car; she had been walking, but stopped to check on the girls, who have yet to move. 

“We’re coming, Mom. This one here is just a bit nervous to meet everybody,” The little brunette explains as she pats her best friend on the shoulder. Maya frowns, but does not attempt to shake her off.

“Maya, there’s absolutely nothing to be afraid of,” Topanga tries to reassure her. “Besides-

as I’m certain she’s already tried to say- if they’re Riley’s grandparents, then they might as well be yours. Everyone’s just been too busy to meet up until now, is all.”

In the end, that does the trick. 

“Fine.” Maya accepts the proffered hand, and the trio head away from the now abandoned car, past Mr. Feeny’s house with the flowers and plants galore. They’re close enough to the Matthews’ house now that they can easily identify the sounds of gleeful yelling and shrieking laughter; sounds of reckless abandon and old story delights. 

Topanga smiles as she pushes open the back door. Everyone is so preoccupied that they don’t immediately notice the newcomers.

The first person that she sees is Shawn, who apparently has indeed decided to come visit for Christmas. She’s seen him recently and all, but it’s never a bad thing to get to see her friend. He’s clearly in the middle of some grand speech- his face is a smorgasbord of emotions, people around him are saying words like  yes  and  no  and  you need to get your head on straight, Shawn,  and his hands are flying every which direction as he speaks. 

“No, I swear! It really happened a few months ago. I can prove it right now,” he argues the authenticity of his story when someone questions it. 

“Prove it right now, then. I bet that whole story, and whatever ‘antique’ you brought along are nothing more than a fake,” Angela banters back jokingly, but before she can continue any further, she’s met with a high pitched shriek so loud that dogs two neighborhoods anyway could probably hear it.

“ ANGELA!”

Angela jerks up, understandably alarmed, but quickly comes to the realization that some unknown psychopath isn’t trying to break in and ruin Christmas. The second she realizes this, she notices that the grinning woman is none other than Topanga Lawrence-Matthews.

“ TOPANGA!” 

She practically flies out of her seat. The chair she was previously relaxing on tipping precariously in one direction; so much so that the remaining occupant falls face first onto the floor. 

Cory leaps out of his own seat to check on Shawn, only to realize that the fallen man is too busy laughing to care. Behind them, the women clutch either other tightly.

“I haven’t seen you in forever!” Angela exclaims, eyes wide.

“I know! It’s been far too long,” Topanga agrees. “But there’s not much I can do about that when you hardly call, you never visit, and you’re living in Europe now!”

“About that, actually...”

“Oh?” Topanga takes a step back, visibly trying to reel herself in, but she’s still practically vibrating on the spot. Angela has to bite back an even larger grin in anticipation of what she has to say next. 

“I’m moving back to the United States.”

Topanga takes a running leap at her friend, completely without hesitation. Angela, despite seeing this coming, can’t exactly hold Topanga’s weight and her own, so they fall all the way down to the floor. 

“Where are you moving to?” Out of the three adults sprawled out over the floor, Shawn is the first to recover and get himself steady again. He accepts a drink, (from Cory,) as he reclaims the wooden kitchen chair he was previously sitting on. (He ignores the fact that Cory just handed him a juice box, of all drinks. Even a water would be better.) 

“Well, that’s the best part.” She pauses. “I’m moving to New York.”

The rest of the group, who had been extremely calm in comparison to Topanga and Shawn- suddenly come to life, all react clamorously. 

“Really?”

“That’s amazing!”

“It’s about time!”

“Does that mean-“

“So,” Maya’s young voice somehow manages to catch the adults’ attention- probably because a majority of them didn’t expect her to speak. Some of them don’t even know who she is. “This is... a good thing?”

Angela is once again the center of attention as she nods. “Yeah. I’d say so, anyway. I guess everyone else agrees... but who are you? You don’t seem familiar.”

Riley slings her arm around the little blonde’s shoulder. “She’s my sister!”

Angela doesn’t seem to believe her for even a second. She takes one look at the two and, despite just now meeting them for the first time, disagrees. “No, she’s not.”

“Yes she is!”

“You two aren’t-“

“Angela,” Shawn begins, tapping her on the shoulder. When she turns to glance back at him, he shakes his head. “Don’t bother.”

“But why?” 

“In all the ways that count, they might as well be sisters.”

“How would  you  know?” Maya asks, staring Shawn down as hard as she can, looking as tough as some skinny little ten-year-old in a tiny, hand-me-down leather jacket and over baggy clothes can attempt to look. But, considering the fact that half of the adults are torn between cooing and asking her approximately ten questions about her wellbeing, her plan is clearly not going off without a hitch. In a last ditch effort to look intimidating to some random stranger, she crosses her arms.

Shawn looks like he’s trying very hard not to laugh. Despite the fact that Cory is used to this, he’s doing the same. Topanga can’t help but let out an ‘aww,’ but Maya ignores her. 

“Do you even know my name?” the child continues.

“Do you even know mine?” Shawn asks amusedly. “Nice jacket, by the way.”

“Thanks,” she mumbles back. She’s super suspicious of the stranger, but that doesn’t mean she just automatically wants to be rude. 

“To answer your question, I know what I’m talking about because I have chatterbox over there as a best friend.” He juts his thumb over at a smiling Cory. Maya copies the motion, but with her best friend instead of Shawn’s. “And yes, I know your name. You’re Maya, aren’t you?”

“Yeah,” she admits. “Wait.”

“Wait for what?”

“ Oh.”  Maya pouts, tasting the bitter taste of being wrong. “You  do  exist.”

Cory, in the background, beams. 

“I told you so!”

“Told who what?” a new voice asks as Jonathan pushes through the back door, a woman at his side and what looks to be a store-bought pie in his hand. He keeps his gaze on the fellow New Yorker as he places the dessert and his motorcycle helmet on the stuffed kitchen table. “Hey Matthews.”

Several hands shoot up in the air and wave hello. 

“Hi Uncle Jon!” Riley shoots out of her seat and throws the man into a hug. “Daddy told Maya that Shawn exists.”

“Yeah, I know. We’ve been saying that for years.”

“Do you know Jonathan?” Maya whispers to Shawn as the other two continue talking about Shawn’s existence, as if the man himself isn’t sitting right behind them. 

Shawn doesn’t respond. He’s too busy staring. 

“Yeah,” Riley’s saying, unaware of this. “But it never really caught on, you know? Since Maya never met him, she just automatically assumed otherwise.”

“Even though we’ve been telling her differently for the past  four years.  And, wait.” Jonathan pauses. “Wasn’t she at your birthday party a few weeks ago?”

“I’m  saying,”  she agrees. “But you weren’t there, so how would you know- oh, right. My parents.”

“Your parents,” Jonathan confirms. He’s about ready to head into the living room and greet Mr. Feeny, but Riley continues chatting away, so he pulls out a chair and stays put. 

“Why didn’t you come to my party?”

“I was busy.”

“You couldn’t get out of work just weeks before Christmas?”

“No, I couldn’t. My school district was still in session, and it’s always busy around the holidays. I couldn’t get away.”

“I had the party after school hours.”

“I know, but that doesn’t mean-“

“So, where do you come from?” Maya quietly asks Shawn as the noise around them only seems to amplify. “I’ve heard it from Mr. and Mrs. Matthews, but I’d rather hear it from you. You know, now that I believe you exist and all.”

“Well, here. Philadelphia.”

“How come you’re never in New York? That’s where I live, by the way,” she tacks on at the end, but she expects he already knows that. “I was told that you travel.”

“I do travel. For work.”

Maya nods. Then- “When was the last time you saw Mr. Matthews, Mrs. Matthews, Riley, and Auggie?”

“I’ve told you this at least three times, Maya, my birthday-“ Riley manages to cut in before Jonathan says something to her and she’s distracted all over again.

“Why didn’t I see you there?”

“I don’t know,” Shawn shrugs, appearing casual. In reality, he’s just way too distracted to care about this particular line of interrogation, but he can already tell that the quicker he answers Maya’s questions, then the quicker she’ll run off and go interrupt Riley, and the quicker Jonathan and Shawn can actually talk in person for the first time in many,  many  years. “I was there. I didn’t see you, either.”

“How often are you around,  really?”

“At least once every few months,” comes the honest response.

“So, you leave,” Maya sums her suspicions up. 

“No,”  Shawn sputters, finally paying attention. 

“Things just happen, Riley,” Jonathan is telling his brunette ‘niece.’ “I can’t always be there, you know.”

“But you always have been,” she retorts, pouting. “And you’ve always been there for my parents.”

“That’s... true, but they didn’t need me, not really. And you don’t either. You’re just upset that I didn’t go to the party, aren’t you?”

Riley nods solemnly.

He stares at her for a few seconds before going, “You’re planning something.”

“Of  course  not!”

“What are you up to? Is there another one of your matchmaking schemes?”

Riley makes a disgusted face. “That’s horrible!”

“How-“

“That’s like... illegal! The ‘plan’ is about you and Shawn,” the child admits. “So, like I said. Horrible. Wasn’t he practically your kid when he was a teenager?” Without waiting for an answer, she asks, “What changed? I heard that you two talk sometimes, but haven’t actually been in the same room as each other since Uncle Shawn was like, fifteen-years-old.”

“Sixteen,” Jonathan absently corrects. “Don’t know where you’re hearing fifteen from.”

“And I’m SAYING,” Maya calls out, having quickly gone from peacefully conversing with Shawn to loudly disagreeing. She’s not actively trying to get all eyes on her, but she accomplishes that anyway. Jonathan jerks his eyes away from Riley and over to Maya. “That just because you come back, doesn’t mean you’ve never left before!”

“You could probably say that about me too, then,” Jonathan remarks, shaking his head. 

“What?” asks Maya. “But you’re always around.”

“Yeah, but you said it yourself: that doesn’t mean that I’ve never left before. Just because it wasn’t my choice, doesn’t mean I never did it.”

“What do you mean it wasn’t your choice to leave? Where did you leave  from?  Did you not want to do it? Did-“ 

“Shh,” Riley whispers to Maya. The latter of the two points in between Jonathan and Shawn. “They’re going to  talk.  This is exactly what I wanted.”

Jonathan ignores the two and gets to his feet. 

Sure enough, they do begin to talk.

Shawn speaks first. “Are you talking about your motorcycle accident?”

First thing either one of them says face to face to one another in over thirteen years- maybe even fourteen or fifteen- is  are you talking about your motorcycle accident?  Seeing as the last time they saw each other was because one of them was in the hospital due to the aforementioned motorcycle accident, it’s almost cruelly poetic. 

Jonathan nods. “Yeah... I was. But that was a while ago.”

“It was,” Shawn agrees. There’s not one single way that it’s not the truth. “You definitely look better than the last time I saw you.”

“Well, I’d sure hope so!” Jonathan grins. “It’s been forever since we’ve seen each other, anyway.”

“Yeah. Why is that, exactly? I’ve been trying to find a way to meet up with you, but I guess it hasn’t happened yet.”

“I’ve been trying too, but something came up every single time.”

“I try to spend time with you, and my agency needs me in Europe,” Shawn lists out an example. 

“I try to meet up with you, and suddenly three different teachers are laid off and sent to my district,” Jonathan agrees, shaking his head. 

“When my agency is done making me stay in Europe, they let me back in the United States, but then they need me in  California  for some reason.”

“Why?”

“To look at beaches. As if I couldn’t have found a beach in a state closer to New York.”

“Then around the same time that all of the incompetent teachers I know are done having their jobs called into question, approximately seventeen  other  people decide they just  desperately  need my input on something. And here we are now.”

“And here we are now,” the younger man echoes. “But it’s better late than never, right?”

“Okay, so,” a familiar voice drawls out as Eric makes his way further into the kitchen, Jack hesitantly creeping in behind him. “If these two are done having their little Hallmark reunion-“

“Actually, that’s probably Shawn and Angela. They looked really cozy when I walked in,” Cory comments. 

Eric accepts this contribution even as the aforementioned two sputter out protests behind him. “-Shawn and Jonathan, love ya guys, really, but if you’re about to start in on your classic ‘he’s not my son’ and ‘he’s not my dad’ fake bullshit, I’ll have to kindly kick you out the door and you’ll just be sitting out there in the cold for like, five minutes, just  dying inside  because you won’t get to hear the amazing news I have to tell!”

“They haven’t seen each other in years,” Jack whispers. He’s only a little bit aware of who Jonathan even is, but he’s picked up enough context clues to make a few assumptions. “I think our announcement can wait a few more minutes.”

“But does it  have  to?” Eric whispers concernedly. He reaches out to grip Jack’s hand. Jack squeezes it back. “I kind of just wanna rip off the ol’ metaphorical bandaid, you know? What if things go wrong? I can’t have my family not support me on this.”

“I’m going to say this as kindly as I can, but come on. It’s 2011, they’ll need to get with the program already.” When that doesn’t appear to help any, be tries a different, softer approach. “Look. If for some bizarre reason, they react badly to this, then we’re going to march right out that door and go back to New York. We’ll spend the holidays together, just you, me, and whoever else wants to come. Just know that no matter what, you’ll have people who will support you and love you just the way you are.” 

“How are you so calm?” Eric asks, mostly in awe and mostly very touched. “I know that most of the problem is going to be us breaking the news to my family, but you still have a brother that you need to talk to.”

“I’m not too worried about Shawn right now. Kid’s got a pretty open mind.”

Eric kindly refrains from asking Jack just how he should know that when, even now, Eric has known Shawn for a lot longer. 

“Alright,” Eric concedes. “I see your point.”

“And besides, like you said, it’s your family, not mine.”

“I’m not so sure about that. I’m pretty sure Riley, Cory, and Topanga have adopted you by now.”

“She calls me Uncle Jack.” He nods. “And that was  before  she started suspecting that you and I are dating.”

“Wait, why am I just now hearing of this? Since when did she start thinking that we’re dating?”

“Remember that time you yanked me away from a business meeting that had the potential that could ruin my life, and demanded I drive the equivalent of a taxi cab so we could all rush Topanga to the hospital to have Auggie Matthews?”

“Of course I remember that!” Eric beams. “It’s one of my favorite personal accomplishments. But go on.”

“We were all camped out in the waiting room when Riley pulled me aside and went, ‘I know that you like my uncle, and I know that you’ve liked him for a long time. When did you two get together?’”

“So, she’s known...”

“For a long time,” Jack finishes, but it looks as if he’s not the only one- while Jonathan and Shawn are still chatting, the majority of the room is now waiting on the very hyped up announcement. 

“Oh shit,” Eric can’t help but mutter as he seems to realize what he’s done. “You ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

He steps forward. “Here we go...”

*

“I’m finally FREE!” Riley announces as she spins around, smile on her face, with her arms stretched out to the sky. 

“I’m not so sure about that,” Maya remarks. Unlike Riley, she walks out of their elementary school at a calm, leisurely pace as she attempts to duck away from the pouring rain. 

“We’re going into middle school!” the brunette continues as if she hadn’t heard a thing. “Don’t you know what this  means,  Maya? We aren’t little girls anymore!”

  
“Yeah, and you wanna know what these ‘not little girls’ get?”

“What? What is it?” the not-quite ten year old is dying to know.

Maya smirks. “We’re stuck with your father next year.”

*

Maya’s prediction ended up coming true. Now, in their freshman year of high school, they’re  still stuck with him.  He’s like the second rate Mr. Feeny of their generation, the ninth grade gang can’t help but think. 

“Shawn, when am I finally getting away from this dude?” Maya asks as she sits at the kitchen table beside Riley. The girls are actually working on their homework- for the latter of the two, this is normal, but the former of the two is still getting used to actually completing it- as she’s also getting used to her shiny, brand new living situation.

She doesn’t want to be mushy, but things have just been going  better  since Shawn Hunter’s started coming around more than once every three or four or five months. Cory is, of course, ecstatic. Everything’s started changing since that fateful little Christmas Day. Maya doesn’t wanna toot her own horn, but...

“What dude?” Shawn asks, not looking up from his laptop. He one handedly picks up his camera, snaps a picture, then returns to his previous expression. He’s been doing this for the last half hour. Nobody’s bothered to ask why. He points over at her history workbook, which has long since been abandoned in favor for English, which she’s recently become fond of. (If that has anything to do with that one cool teacher of hers that waltzed right in like she opened the place, well, nobody’s admitting anything.) “Abraham Lincoln? Because, hate to say it, but you’re never gonna meet him.”

“Not  him,”  she sighs, pointing over at the wide open front door. Cory Matthews walks in with Auggie clinging to his hand. “ Him.”

Shawn still doesn’t look up. “Hey, Cor.”

“How did you know it was me?”

“Who else is going to barge into the apartment like this? You never knock.”

“That’s not true-“

“Yes it is!” Riley, Maya, Shawn, and Auggie all exclaim at once. 

“Is this a yes?” Maya asks, staring up at the ceiling. “He can’t be around forever!”

“You might as well just accept it now,” Shawn says with a put-on sigh. It’d probably be more effective if he isn’t smirking. “He’s like a barnacle. He never goes away.”

“What does that make me?” asks Riley, who’s still scribbling away at her work. “Barnacle junior?”

“Not entirely, because that would require Topanga also being a barnacle.”

Cory laughs. “You’re trying to convince me that my wife  isn’t  one?”

“Not to the extent of you.”

He closes and opens his mouth, but he can’t really find it in him to dispute that. “Well then what does that make her?”

“Both of our wives are like anchors.”

“So, what, you and I are ships?”

“Why not?” Shawn shrugs. “I don’t know about yours, but I know my wife has been like an anchor to me.”

Cory grins. Maya, in the background, does as well. It’s pretty easy for the two to admit that Shawn and Katy are a totally cute couple- and, sure, that’s come with some changes such as Shawn living with them mostly full time now, but nobody would change it for the world. Finally,  finally,  he gets to be happy. 

“Actually, speaking about husbands and wives, I have news.”

“Don’t let him fool you,” Katy’s voice calls out as she flies past them, heading out the door. “He’s not actually talking about me. He’s talking about Jack.”

Riley blinks rapidly, almost as if she’s confused. “What about him? Is he getting married?”

Shawn points at her. “Got it in one.”

“WHAT? When is he getting married?”

“Yeah, I want to know too,” Cory says. He apparently also had not been informed about this.

“It’s... next week... when I said I had news, I was mostly just being dramatic...” Shawn replies slowly. He shoots the father-daughter duo a look. “Did you really not know?”

Maya shoots them the same exact expression. “Yeah, guys. How did you not know? Isn’t he, like, your family?”

Riley opens her mouth to reply, then pauses. Realization dawns across her face. “Yes...” she says slowly.

“What’s with the,” Maya stops for a second, lowers her voice. “Yes...”

“Maya... think about it.”

“What’s there to think about? The man’s getting married. I’m getting another uncle. I get to eat fancy wedding food. Seems like a pretty good deal to me.”

“ Exactly!  Uncle Eric,” she points at herself, “Is my uncle. Jack, though I consider him mine, is now your  actual  uncle, because he’s his brother.” She points over at Shawn, who nods. “If Jack is your uncle, and Eric is mine, then won’t that make us cousins?”

Maya slowly grins. “YES!” 

“YES!”

The girls lean into each other and somehow, as always, end up collapsed on the floor.

*

“So, how are all the parents taking this whole wedding thing?”

“Well, it’s next week,” Cory reminds Shawn, as if Shawn isn’t the one who told him this in the first place. “So they kind of have to get with the program pretty quickly.” 

“That’s not what I’m asking,” Shawn points out slowly. “I mean, I know how Eric is. We both do. Most days, he isn’t... entirely predictable.”

“What are you getting at?”

“Did he even tell your parents about the wedding before he went ahead and started planning it, or did he just decide to invite them last second, like he apparently did with yourself and Riley?”

“And Topanga, and Auggie, and Maya, and- wait. You already had an invite before all of this?”

“Yeah,” Shawn admits. “But not for very long. I’ve had mine for a few weeks. I was just mostly surprised that you didn’t.” 

“So, are you thinking that me not getting an invite was deliberate?”

“Hey, I could be wrong. It could just be coincidence.”

“You don’t believe that,” Cory says, disbelieving. “What do you think the real reasoning is?”

“You won’t know until you ask.”

So, he does.

*

“What do you MEAN I’m not good with change?”

“Cory, Cory, Cory... you’ve known this for years.”

“So that’s why I barely got invited to your own  wedding?”

Eric tilts on the balls of his feet. “Well, I didn’t know how you’d take it. I just...” he trails off, but Cory understands the unspoken words just fine.

“Listen to me. Change or not, this is your  wedding.  It’s going to be the most important day of your life- and it sure doesn’t hurt that you’ll be marrying someone that the whole family loves. I’m going to be there. I just wish that I knew about it sooner.”

Eric shoots his little brother a suspicion filled, side eyed look. “You’re sure?”

“I’m sure,” Cory says. “There’s nothing you can do to stop me. I’m going to your wedding.”

*

And he does.


End file.
